Hopeless
by Follower of the Atrox
Summary: After some effort, the Atrox recruits a new follower by the name of Marilyn Fredricks. But what's so special about this particular Follower?
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1:  
  
No one cared.  
  
No one had ever cared.  
  
And while many people would probably wallow in self pity at that fact, she didn't. It's just not what she did.  
  
Instead, she got mad.  
  
Instead, she got even.   
  
  
Marilyn Fredrick stared in the regal-looking mirror, surrounded by golden swirls and stars. It was easily the only thing of its kind in the whole apartment that she lived in. Her deep blue eyes flashed with anger, seemingly glowing in the dimly lighted room.   
  
Her reflection began to change, like oil floating in the ocean. It outward, replaced by a disfigured face half hidden by shadows. She stood up, a small sigh releasing itself from her lips.  
  
"You are hear to ask me if I've accepted your proposition." She stated. Marilyn leaned down so her face was as close as it could get without touching the mirror.  
  
"It doesn't take a genius to know that." The face in the mirror responded. "And don't act all-knowing like that. It doesn't leave a good impression with the other Regulators."   
  
"I'll act how you want, just because you have someone that I want. Immortality. Power. Purpose." She smiled, a wicked, toothy grin.  
  
"You're right. We have a purpose. To cover the world in darkness, to destroy all hope. We are the Atrox." The figure responded, his voice filled with passion. "Wonderful. You are expected to meet one of our Followers in Los Angeles, where we're currently working. And Marilyn? Don't let the Atrox down. Just because we've gone through so much to recieve your services doesn't mean we won't take all of this away if you mess up." Marilyn's eyes flashed once more, though this time the light was much more dangerous.  
  
"You're making this sound like some sort of spy movie! And why are you going through all this trouble to get me in the first place? Why do you care if you suspect I'll mess you anyway!"  
  
"Reword your sentances better," The man in the mirror strictly reprimended her. "I don't care. About anything."  
  
"Well you understood my question. Answer it!" Marilyn snapped, tossing her pale blonde hair over her shoulder.  
  
"Because you're hopeless." With a shriek of indignity, Marilyn ran towards the mirror, smashing it with her fists. Hopeless. The word echoed through her mind, refusing to stop. Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless. The walls screamed it. Hopeless. Hopeless.  
  
She was an Atrox now. Just because the Regulator called her Hopeless didn't mean she could just change her mind. Tears running down her cheeks, the petite woman bent down and picked up one shard of the mirror, pocketing it before she slammed the door to her apartment for the last time.  
  
Los Angeles, eh?   
  
  



	2. 

Marilyn took care to note every single detail as the plan flew through the sky, the wings cutting through the harsh wind like knives cutting through butter. The sky, an infinite pale azure; the clouds, off-white, the color of morning doves. Still, most strange of all was the sun, an orb that simply hung their in the center of it all, letting of an endless light. All this was quite new to her, though somehow she knew she had seen it before. Yes, she had most defenitely seen it before, but now she saw it in a new way, a different light.  
  
No, not a different light. More like a different darkness.  
  
"Exuse me? Would you mind switching seats with my nephew?" The woman sitting next to her asked in an obnoxiously loud voice. She was a rather portly creature, her thin, auburn hair kept in a low bun. A pleasant smile stretched across her face. The fact that this woman had decided such a trivial question was important enough to interrupt her from her thoughts annoyed Marilyn greatly.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" The woman didn't quite understand what Marilyn meant by this question, which was obvious by the bewildered expression she held across her face.  
  
"I ... I guess I'm asking you if you'd like to trade seats with my nephew, Jordan. You see, it's his first time flying and he's feeling a bit sick, so it would be very helpful if you switched with him so I could give him some moral support ..." The woman gave a weak smile.  
  
"I'm sorry, lady, but I think my problems are much bigger than yours." Marilyn snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously as they often tended to do when she became emotional. The woman seemed to catch this, and shivered slightly before nodding and turning away. She seemed to be trying to make eye contact with the nephew, Jordan, whom was seated about three rows behind them. Marilyn could even hear her whimper some praises.  
  
"Jordan, you're being such a good boy ... Jordan, honey, it's okay ... Don't worry, baby, not that much longer ..."  
  
---  
  
~*~*~  
  
---  
  
"You're Marilyn." A gruff voice stated, a voice belonging to a tall, lanky boy whom looked only a few years older than herself. His eyes were a pure, monotonous black, lacking pupils or irises. They stood out at her, symbolizing all that the Atrox meant.  
  
"Uhh ... yes." Those eyes scared her, shattering her typically charismatic and care-free appearance and replacing it with the image of an insecure, fearful child. Damn. She couldn't remember the last time such a thing had happened to her.  
  
"You didn't need to answer. I already knew." He said, and she noticed that his voice carried the same sort of inhuman edge as his eyes.  
  
"Oh, well, I should have guessed ..." She laughed, quickly regretting it. His face showed now emotion, now recognition, nothing.  
  
"I don't understand why they went through all this trouble. You don't seem worthwhile." He snorted, quickly continuing before she could answer. "Anyway, I'm Caleb. Frankly, I don't care what you call me, but know always that I am your superior in the Atrox. If I ask you something, anything, you will obey. Is that perfectly clear?"  
  
"Yeah ... yeah." Marilyn nodded, shakily, suddenly wondering what she had gotten herself into. This must be exactly how that woman on the plane had felt earlier ... 


End file.
